Letters From A Pilot
by Quatres Little Princess
Summary: Quatre and Trowa have been seperated during the war and their only means of communication is to write letters to one another. These are those letters. Rated R for mild swearing and Shounen-ain themes.


Author's Note: This story is set in wartime…please forgive me if some of my information is incorrect, I don't know much about what goes on in an army barracks, so I'm kinda making it up. Please don't sue me for that.

Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or any of the characters (Damn it), so don't sue me.

Warning: Yaoi, Shounen-ai (most likely Shounen-ai)

Pairings: 3x4 mostly. A Little bit of 1+2, 5+6+13.

Letters From A Pilot 

Trowa stared out the window into the blackness of the night. In the distance he could see the flashes of gunfire and he shuddered, closing the curtains and pulling his paper and pen closer to him he settled down to write.

_January 1st – 2002_

_Dear Quatre,_

_                 Well, it's not really the first of January, but I needed to write to you. It's about 11:45pm on the 31st of December and I'm sitting up in my room avoiding the party going on downstairs. Duo's been in a couple of times to see how I'm going and to offer me a drink, but I've just given him my usual Trowa look and he's disappeared. I think I'm starting to worry them. You only left a week ago and I've been moping around ever since. I miss you Quatre, is that so hard for them to understand? Heero has Duo and vice versa, Wufei finally got together with Treize and Milliardo (yes they have a…three part relationship going) but me. The one I love is half way across the other side of the world, all because of some stupid idiots that sent you away because you got a high mark in your written scores and so you don't need to be here, fighting in this war in combat purposes, no, you're safe where you are, you get to do the tactical advising. Come home Quatre…I know it's selfish but…I need you, I'm losing myself again. I can't smile at the others the way I can smile at you, I'm wilting without you and I really do need you. Not even HeavyArms gives me the comfort that you do, and that machine is the only other thing I had in my life that meant that much to me. Every day I go out to the hangar and just stare at SandRock, parked next to HeavyArms, both of them looking like huge metallic birds, ready to kill, and it destroys me to remember that you won't ever pilot that wonderful jet again…not ever._

_ That reminds me, they're training us for ground combat they want to use us on the ground now. They say the air is getting to risky. Quatre, I'm scared, I'm not cut out to do battle that way, and all my army life I've been a pilot, nothing more, and nothing less. I don't want it to change; too many things have already changed! Quatre…what if I die, what if I never get the chance to see you again before I die? My death would be even more painful if that happened. I want to die in my sleep, next to you, in a warm bed. That's another word that brings pain to my heart. I miss being able to sleep with you in my arms, holding close, listening to your soft breathing, as I laid awake wondering what the future held for us. _

I miss that... I miss YOU. Quatre, I need you…I know I already said that, but I'm not quite sure if I let you know how I truly felt when you were here. I was so quiet, I didn't want to be, I just…I just couldn't help it. Quatre, I…I…I love you. Remember that okay and I look forward to your next letter. I have to go now, because Duo is pestering me to come down and have a drink with the 'boys' like it'll be fun or something. Oh well, I guess I'll write to you next time. 

                                                            Loving you always

_                                                                   Trowa Barton___

Trowa carefully and quietly sealed the envelope and slid off the chair. He stuck a stamp on the envelope and then addressed it. He pulled on his jacket and snuck out the back way and made his way over to the Messenger Hut. He knocked on the door.

"Whaddya want?" the voice slurred from inside. Trowa slid the letter under the door. The creaking of the floorboards from inside indicated that whoever it was had stood up. "Rightio Matey, I'll post that off tonight." Trowa whispered his thanks and made his way back over to the barracks, where upon stepping inside, was full of drunken soldiers. He sighed and made his way back to his room, forgotten by Duo.


End file.
